Missing Star
by RealityDreamsii
Summary: What would happen if one day your beloved little brother was no where to be found? Colony!Alfred and Empire!Arthur   2nd try at uploading this story Warning!Rape, sex implied things, smut, fighting etc. Angst! and Pain!
1. What Really Happened?

Prologue- What really happened?

_Of course the day had to be pouring down in rain as he hurried around the house, quietly as possible to collect his belongings for another sad trip back to England. The rain seemed to mock him, roaring loud as they crashed against the roof of the house making him curse at it. It was a hassle of the unexpected events making him leave so early, but business was business and he couldn't let it stop him from going back and dealing with it. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw an all too familiar and tired boy who stood in between him and the doorway._

_Sighing softly under his breath, he walked as if he was going to pass the small boy, but stopped, getting on one knee and hugging the boy close who only returned it in a tighter embrace before standing up again. _

"_I'm sorry, but I must go again Alfred." The older man said softly to the younger boy who starred up at him, now his eyes starting to water up and become sad. _

"_Y-You can't leave yet England! You just got here yesterday! I-It's not fair! "The small child yelled back, clinging himself onto the man which took him by surprise. Trying to tell the child he was leaving again was harder then he thought. This had been the 4__th__ time he had done this. "I'm sorry Alfred."_

_Now he was purely sobbing, his knees had given out and he was clinging onto England as if his whole life depended on it. His nightmares had been increasing this whole time without the other man and Alfred was at his limit. He was sure the monsters were going to get him this time. _

"_P-Please England..."Alfred said in the most softest tone he could get out of his body, shaking and starring up to meet broken green eyes that looked as dejected as his own. "I-I'm sorry…"_

_He just left him. He didn't even know he wouldn't see him again._

He never would've thought the day would come where he'd fine the house silent as the dead. Arthur had arrived earlier then he thought, happy that he had returned to visit Alfred once more. He missed the child too much and it hurt him that he had left him back before. His heart felt pinched inside remembering Alfred's face as he was leaving him, broken and crying because he had once again needed in England again.

Entering the home, he was surprised to find it not even lit, but the sun made up for that matter. A smile was traced on his lips as he saw the place was more cleaned than usual, but the silence that adorned the house was questioning him. Walking into the house, he saw almost no sign of life. It worried him even more. "Alfred? " He called out, looking around. There was no child running towards him calling him by his silly nickname or sky blue eyes staring up at him.

Walking upstairs, he peered into each room, only finding the same result of them being empty. Arthur was more than worried, but keep his calm as he just walked back downstairs and checked it room, assuming Alfred probably fell asleep in one of the other rooms. They were empty once again. Panic pumping in his body; he searched the last place he could think of. England was outside, searching around the garden he and Alfred cared for together. Running down and up the garden, he found it empty and lifeless. It was nothing.

Arthur swore he was going crazy, maybe he had missed him! Running back to the house, he searched once more. Then once again he searched, hoping he was just mistaking himself and overlooking his precious colony. It was only a matter of time before he realized he wasn't going blind or mistaking himself. The house was truly empty.

His heart crumbled as he curled up on the floor after falling to his knees and giving a piercing scream that was shadowed by the forming thunders in the sky. Too many thoughts were colliding in his mind, thinking and wanting to know where he was. Where had his only sane happiness gone from his life?


	2. The Cause, The Wait, and The Lost

Chapter 1- The News

He had awoken on the floor, a pain slicing his head as he placed a hand against his forehead in confusion. How did he end up on the floor? The surroundings were something he wasn't used to either. Looking around himself, he realized he wasn't in home. He did make a mistake of getting up too quickly to get another pain coursing through his spine and back side. Groaning rather loudly, he fell back the floor, giving up strength in his body to move from all the pain. He wasn't all too sure of what was going on.

Footsteps echoed outside of the room and he looked up in confusion. Who?

"Are you up little Amerique?" A voice asked through the door. He visibly stiffened, thinking of his resolve by crawling under the bed, happy that his small self could hide under it. He heard the door creak open, steps coming closer. He heard a sigh and the steps leaving the room. Thinking it was clear to come out, he crawled out from under, standing up and straitening his clothes before he was pulled back. He opened his mouth to scream, but a hand covered it only making it muffled.

"That's where you were? You worried big brother Mon petit!" The Frenchman exclaimed, grabbing a strong hold of his chin and making him face him. America let out a soft whimper in defeat, almost feeling Francis' eyes roaming his body like an animal. It was terrifying. He scooped up the boy, bringing him out of the room and into the living room. He sat himself on the couch, turning on the TV for the younger to see and gape at.

The news had spread around like wild fire, the worst storms in the history of the British nation were being told around, some worried about their loved ones, others smugly smirking as they were told of the tragedy that befell the British Isles. A letter had been received days prior containing a letter detailing the dangerous storms and pictures.

"Mon petit, you made a wonderful choice of just listening to me. " The smug look on his face only grew as he snaked his arms around the others waist, chuckling at the squirming response. His hand cupped the younger boy's cheek. "You should be honored to be under my care. "He purred near his ear, running his thumb over the small lips that quivered at the touch. A sniffle escaped the smaller child's lips as his wide blue eyes were glued onto the floor, not wanting to look at the pictures taken of his once home.

Alfred gave out a squeak as he felt the hands move lower; only making his try to escape the confinement of France, but it wasn't given for his escape as he was pulled closer to other's chest. "Be a good boy Alfred." The words said the tone more demanding. Gulping down the last of his pride, he just let the hands roam his body, sometimes stopping to squeeze him which only made him feel ever so uncomfortable. Drawing of a long steady breathe, he just tried to get a bit calmer, leaning against the body behind him no matter how weird it felt.

"Mmh, good little Alfie~" Francis whispered against his neck, suckling on it and biting down. Alfred let out a sharp gasp in pain at the feeling of skin breaking. He felt the tongue lap up the escaping blood and shuddered in disgust. It was disturbing; dirty. He hated it from the bottom of his heart, but couldn't do anything.

Another squeeze; "Vous savez que vous le voulez."

A gasp; "Il suffit de dire les mots."

Alfred just shook his head, barely understanding the French due to his time spent with both the French nation and Matthew. He gave a stubborn struggle against the hold, trying to pull away by biting Francis' hand. The older nation let out a surprised 'ow', letting the boy fall from his lap. Taking this advantage, he ran for his dear life, not caring where he went, he just wanted to run away. Down the hallways, you could hear his little feet running across the floor, searching for any open way to escape. His eyes widened as they stopped at a door. Making a run for it, he got to the door, unlocking it before he was lifted off the ground. He shouted, kicked, screamed and struggled out of the grasp.

He heard the 'tsk tsk tsk' from behind him as he was carried upstairs. Alfred knew where was going. "L-Let go of my Francis!"

"Non petit frère, you've been such a bad child to le grand frère." He retorted back to the younger one, opening the door to his bedroom and tossing the child onto the bed before crawling over him. "Now let's see if you disobey me now."

The next month was more than dreadful for the British Nation. It rained hardest, come resulting in hail storms and snowing. It was December which made it worse. Christmas Day felt more of a funeral for all, hiding in the warmth and safety of their houses. A knock on the door is not something the British personification expected in this terrible weather. There was no strength left in his body to rise up and open the door.

_Engwand, look up!_

"-terre." _What?_

"Angleterre." Arthur's neck almost snapped up to see his home being invaded by an intruder… A French one to be exact; He stood up to face the man, though not meeting his blue eyes. They reminded him too much of…  
>"Frog, how did-"His bitter words died as his eyes landed on keys that danged around the Frenchman's finger.<p>

"Joyeux Noel Angleterre." Francis finally said in the awkward tension. The green eyes moved to see a box in Francis' other hand.

"You didn't have to get a bloody gift…" Arthur retorted, breaking his gaze from the item. It was still pushed into his hands making him glare up at Francis. Only a sigh was given in defeat as he opened the gift, ripping off the offending wrapper the nicest way he could.

Arthur's face twisted in confusion as he peered up at the Frenchman before him then glanced back down.

"Why…" A step closer Francis came. The Frenchman took hold of his chin, forcing him to look up from the beautiful sliver heart necklace with a key hole in it.

"I love you. " The hidden smirk met the abused lips of Arthur's. His mind screamed for him to turn against the man, to punch him in the gut and just run back upstairs and hide in his room, but he was frozen. It wasn't that hard to just give in.

Giving in was easier when someone was already broken down.

'_Alfred_ 'The British man whispered in his mind as he melted in the false love given to him.

A shudder shook in the teen's body as pain filled him. It stung-burned his whole being and let out a pained groan once again. Why did he feel this? Something inside him told him to go hurt something- someone. He hated it.

Arthur could only act on pure instinct, attaching himself to the Frenchman who happily obliged by just capturing up into a more deep kiss. Nibbling on the bottom of the now wet lips, Arthur moaned and opened his mouth to let the intruding tongue into him to explore the wet cavern he called his mouth. Green eyes were starring into blue ones, but not seeing what he thought. No, Arthur was seeing a different scene, one of happiness and pure love with a more grown up blonde who had the purest love in his eyes, not ones of evil lust. Melting entirely, Francis just helped himself to break the kiss, earning a soft whine from the smaller man. He chuckled at the sight, not expecting this sort of reaction.  
>"W-Why did you stop... " He whispered softly, starring up at Francis with gleaming green eyes.<p>

"Angleterre... "Francis almost whispered as softly back in pure shock. He didn't understand why he wasn't resisting.

Well it wasn't everyday he got to have sex with Arthur. He wouldn't let it pass.

* * *

><p><em>Translations: Vous savez que vous le voulez. – You know you want it<em>

_Il suffit de dire les mots. – Just say the words_

_Non Petit frère- no little brother_

_Le grand frère – big brother_


	3. The Misleading

Chapter 2- The True Misleading.

"_F-France! What's up? You should've told me you were coming over!" A surprised American teen said, smiling at a equally surprised Frenchman. The surprise look faded into a warming smile as he just chuckled._

"_Ah~ Amerique, you've grown once more into a cute petit frère! How have you been? "He asked, ignoring what the American asked beforehand, though he didn't seem to notice._

"_Just tidying up since England's coming over in two ya know, he'll be grumpy if I don't at least fix up a bit! Plus, he'll get all surprised wen he sees how big I've grown since his last visit! " Alfred rambled on happily, oblivious to the mischevious gleam in Francis' eyes._

"_Oh! How's Mattie been? " A real smile crawled onto his face at the mention of the Canadian colo- boy. " Ah, Bebe Canada is fine mon cher~." Francis said sweetly, letting his mind think about the boy. _

"_Well come on in, I'll make some tea!" Alfred insisted, pulling in the French who happily obliged._

_They were situated in the living room, Alfred pouring a cup of tea of Francis and himself as he sat next to the man who draped his arm around his shoulders leisurely. _

"_Alfred, are you enjoying Angleterre's care?" The question threw Amica off a bit, but he gave a grin and laughed._

"_Of course! He's kind and always visits when he can." The little boy said happily, looking a France._

"_But doesn't he notice you're going to be too strong in the future?" His smile faded, replaced with pure confusion. "What're you talkin' bout France?" Alfred asked, starring at the Frenchman as if he was the unnoticed feature in a toy. _

_Francis stood up- so did Alfred. _

_One step forward- one backwards. _

_He lunged forward- Alfred tired to escape. _

_Francis tied him down- Aflred thrashed under him._

_He laughed- he screamed for help._

_It was almost a blur, francis had somehow pulled Alfred into england's room. He threw the boy atop the bed, straddling him by the waist. _

"_H-Help!" A chuckle came from the older nation as he grabbed hold of the teen's scared face._

"_You'll be screaming my name soon enough Amerique." He purred, rocking his hips against Alfred's squirming ones. A smug look arose on France's face as he heard a broken gasp of pleasure and confusion, glancing down to see a flushed and scared American, the fear capturing his blue eyes. How Francis savored the moment._

* * *

><p>A groan escaped his lips as he attempted to rise from his resting spot, only to feel pain shoot up his body. Arthur laid back down and curled up, biting his lips as he remembered why he was in pain. The memories were to vivid, too real; it hurt. How could he have given in at the thought of being loved again? Was the absence of him that bad? A bare whimper escaped him once more as Arthur just hid back under the covers.<p>

"I'll go regret this bloody mess later…" Arthur mumbled brokenly, wanting to drown in his blissful dreams of Alfred again.

* * *

><p>The morning was too bright, noise too loud too much that reminded him of his home; it hurt. He knew he was still in England, the weather still down and just whispering to him, asking why he wasn't with England right now.<p>

"Get up, we need to talk about a few changes Amerique." Francis said, entering the room and hovering over the bed. The teen just flinched away from the man, nodded hesitantly and not meeting his eyes. He didn't move.

"Maintenant Alfred, levez-vous ou je vous punirai." His tone too demanding and cold than he had meant, Alfred scurried out of the bed too fast, giving a groan as he stood nervously on the other side of the bed. He pains of last night mocked him as he stood in pain. Only a hand wave drew him closer and Alfred followed behind the older man's stops slowly, starring at his feet.

"S'il vous plait Alfred; grand frère just wants to improve from what the dirty, uncaring man has taught." No response from the other boy made Francis turn and glare at him.

"W-Why am I here France?" The question caught him off guard. He sneered down at the child, sitting down in a chair.

"Do you think Angleterre would accept you back? After what we're done? Petit frère que nous avons déjà nos destins entremêlés." He replied smugly in French, throwing Alfred a flare that said too-bad-for-you.

Alfred didn't understand the last of what he said, but he knew one thing: he couldn't go back to Arthur. He was dirty; tainted. Not his little brother anymore and it just hurt him to know it was the truth.

"Now Al, go clean yourself and join me for breakfast. We have to depart soon from Angleterre's land if we want to make it back quicker."

The teen just glared at the ground, wondering what Arthur had done. Christmas was yesterday and the truth hit him. It was the first holiday without him. First of many without Arthur's presence near him; he bit his lip to suppress a low whimper of sadness.

A/N

Translations:

Alfred now, get up or I will punish you. - Maintenant Alfred, levez-vous ou je vous punirai.

Please Alfred - S'il vous plait Alfred,

little brother we've already intertwined our fates. - Petit frère que nous avons déjà nos destins entremêlés

Ahah ^ ^'|l well there's chapter two

Someone pointed out about the TV thing in the last chapter-

Yeah this isn't historically accurate at all. I'm skipping around if that makes any clearance to confusion.

Arthur finds out is a kind of rerun of what happened a few hundred years ago.

The beginning of chapter 1 is just showing what Francis did to Alfred when he first captured him. More major time skipping is to the point with the news.

In the future, I'll write out if there's a time skip sorry for the confusion

and to finish clearing confusion

France and Alfred are still in England, hence why France could have fun time with England and still rape America.

And I seriously was not going to write Alfred getting raped as a child by Francis . ~ .


	4. The Sea At Last

Chapter: 3- The Sea at last

It was barely dawn and he was shaken from his dream. Hovered over him was Francis, his face lacking any imperfection. He only had a moment to look before he was picked by the collar and practically thrown off the bed. He gave a scared look up at the older nation who just ignored it. Stepping around the side, he lowered himself to pick the boy up.

"Get ready, mon petit, we're leaving very soon." He was left only with the chill of the cold tone before he was dropped reluctantly and left alone in the room. A sniffled cry escaped the young one as he nodded, picking himself up from the ground. He winced in pain that shot up his spine. Alfred slowly walked towards the closet, picking up what little he had of possession. Sure, France had been nice enough to let him gather some clothing from his home that night, even the toy soldiers England made for him. England. His mind only dangled on the hope of the British nation to not be too terribly lonely without him.

He was distraught, broken inside and barely mended from his actions of the previous night spent with someone not of his liking. Memories; all too fresh as he brought himself up from slumber, wincing in pain as he gathered himself up and headed straight to the bathroom to clean himself from last night's ordeals. His nakedness didn't even bother him as he glanced at himself in the mirror. He grimaced at the appearance, hair dishelmed, body covered in forming darkish red imprints that clearly looked like he was owned. Turning away from himself, he stepped into the bath.

It helped him soak out the nasty fillings in his body at least as he opened the bathroom with a towel hanging from his hips. He got the closet and put on his attire for the day, not wanting to be overly fashioned. A loose collared shirt clung to his body as well as fine trousers. His heeled shoes clicked as he stepped down the hallway to his study. His eyes stared a bit too long as he passed by a now empty room. He then wondered: why wasn't he panicking as he was yesterday, why was the empty feeling bubbling in his gut just ceasing? The thoughts formed and he just slumped himself into his chair. He didn't know nor did he care. He was broken.

"Come on Amerique, we need to hurry." The voice called through the door snapping the child from his thoughts. Alfred let out a soft noise of acknowledgment; glancing the room once more before leaving it finally. Opening the door, he was met by a burly man, the scent of the ocean wafted from him. It only made the uneasy feeling grow in the pit of his stomach. He let out a surprised yelp, tugged by the wrist away from his safe domain. Alfred nearly dropped his half empty pack, struggling to keep up with the tall male.

"Hurry up brat." The man encouraged, half dragging him away. He nodded, hesitant to try and catch up, but deflated in energy as he reached the main hall. Alfred's own eyes met Francis' blue ones that looked at the man holding him, nodding him off and replacing his hold on his wrist. "No time to waste now." He heard France grumble as they met the outside dawn light. It was almost a faint shimmer of light now boosting from its nightly sleep.

Along the horizon was a docked ship, a vessel he hadn't seen before. Though he wasn't unfamiliar with ships, having been trips between England and his own country many of times, Alfred already grew apathetic towards the vessel. That's what was taking him away from England.

Nothing would be the same.

Seconds. Minutes. Hours. Days.

He could barely keep track of his journey on the boat. Everyday, he awoke from a jostling push off his cot. He'd memorized the smell of rum by the second day. Tea was served 6: sharp, down into Francis' room where we was forced to stay in for another hour or so with other 'duties'.

Everyday day was the same.

He'd been wandering on the deck. The air was welcoming him, only there to make him shiver and trust in it. Turning his head, he only saw an unsettled ocean, rocking the ship slowly. Then he realized the beauty he could not grasp of the water. It was untamed, more powerful. Free.

Later that day, he'd returned to his quarters, head down into a book. "Mon ami, would you join me?" Alfred raised his head from a book of England's he'd taken. A confused look came onto his face. "To where-"

Francis gave him a look and waved him over. The young teen just rose from his spot and followed the other. Out of the under they came to meet the sun's light as well as something else. He'd been met with the sight of a dock. _W-we're finally in France?_ He thought, panic coursing through him. He timidly stood in his place, feeling a weight on his shoulder.

"Welcome home Alfred."

A/N:

Holy shit.

I'm sorry if you were waiting for this chapter and just got an ass load of disappointment ; A ;  
>I've been busy with school and just – ah excuses xD<p>

Well expect the next one in a few days or at least a week [:

Suggestions for reforms of America will be taken!

Please R&R? :D

side note: I fixed the thing in chapter 1 about the TV xD


	5. The Changes

Chapter 4 – The Changes

By another hour did they finally dock into France, the crew beginning to unload the cargo as well as Alfred's farewell to the ship and sea; He gave a last glance towards the beautiful blue and green ocean, waves crashing against each other from afar, he felt his heart clench at the thought. This was the first time he'd see something so beautiful and free, so used and mysterious, so like him.

By the time all had been unloaded and stored away, the night sky had come early. Francis dismissed the crew to home and walked back into his home, a Little America trudging not too far behind the other. Not even a single glance back to check if the other was there for there was no need; the teenager was already nervous enough to stay in a corner and keep to himself in the mysterious unknown home of the French personification.

"Go petit frère; upstairs and take your first left. That's your room. Bathroom is three doors down and my room is at the end of the hallway. Good night." Were his words before Alfred gave a nod, scurrying up the stairs. He missed how the Frenchman stared after him with a dark bliss before disappearing down the hallway.

* * *

><p>The morning was too bright, noise too loud too much that reminded him of him home. It hurt him. He was barely given any time to realize how late it was in the morning before hearing a 'click' of the door unlock, creaking open to show Francis once more.<p>

"Get up Alfred; we need to talk about a peu de changements." He said with a click of his tongue, walking towards the bedside. He hovered over the bed, reaching out and cupping the younger one's cheeks. The teen just flinched away from the touch, nodding hesitantly, still not meeting his eyes nor moving from his spot. Francis' eyes narrowed at him.

"Maintenant Alfred, levez-vous ou je vous punirai." His tone too demanding and cold then he had meant. Alfred scurried out of the bed and stood nervously on the other side. Only a hand wave closer and he followed the other's steps out of the room.

"S'il vous plait Alfred, grand frère just wants to improve from what they dirty, uncaring man has taught."

No response from Alfred made Francis turn and glare at him. Blue eyes met each other and he only stared at him. He sneered at the child before turning his gaze back in the direction of where he was walking. Two large doors were near the end and Francis stopped to open it before letting them inside and closing the doors. He barely had gotten a chance to give a sigh before all of his attention was brought back to Alfred.

"Why am I here France?" The question caught him off guard, but he just sneered down at the child once more. He made him way to the front of his desk, leaning against it as his gaze narrowed on Alfred. He gave off a smug smirk.

"Do you think Angleterre would accept you back; after what _we've_ done? Petit frère, il voulait devenir un avec vous, vous utilisez, puis vous partez." Francis replied smugly in French, throwing Alfred a glare that said 'too-bad-for-you.

Alfred didn't understand the last of what he said, but he knew 1 thing. He couldn't go back to England. He was dirty; tainted by the hands of Francis and that England wouldn't love him back ever. He wasn't his little brother anymore and it hurt him. He wanted to cry out, shout and just run away, but the feeling was only overwhelming inside, never exploding yet. It made him hurt more inside.

Clasping his hands together, Francis gave an ironically happy smile, moving to around the desk to sit in the chair. Alfred felt trapped like a bird, one on display at a shop. The Frenchman let his elbows rest against the desktop, putting his chin on top.

"So Amerique, there will be a peu de changements, as I had stated before. First," He pulled out a document from under of the bottom of the stack of papers on his desk and flashed it to Alfred. His blue eyes widened. Written out on the top of the paper was written in beautiful cursive, 'Declaration of Dependent Utilization'. "W-What's that?" He gave out in a shaky tone, staying in his place. A curve came on the corner of Francis' lips, turning the document to face his self before reading off of it: 'We the people of the United America entrust all loyalty and government for the French Monarchy.'

Alfred stood up in a blind fury, glaring at Francis. "I do not agree with that!" Francis narrowed his eyes at the other, standing up as well. "I believe you do Amerique. You're under French property now." He gave out, glaring pointedly at the teenager whose courage to back talk the Frenchman was slowly fading as he slumped back into his seat.

Francis gave a cough and just shook his head before putting down the document. "Je ne veux pas te blesser. I only want to do what's best for you-""England was the best for me!" America blurted at him.

"Shut up you Brat!" The other roared, standing up again. A tense silence hung between the two, both starring at each other with fierce eyes before Alfred adverted ways, squirming under the gaze. France gave a soft sigh, sitting back down and running a hand through his hair.

"Well," Alfred raised his head to see Francis starring at another document ", you're new laws will be all products will be under French production for needs and services, militias, armies, anything for the military is under the French Monarchy, English Parliament has no control in territories occupied with French nobles, unless sold to them, taxation will be enforced upon anyone who does not contribute to the country in any way in means of job or economy and French officials will own land and have chances to run in government." Alfred just sat still in his seat, taking in that he barely had control over his own country. How could he let this happen? The young nation didn't know how any of this had become.

Only question that came to mind through this was if England missed him.

* * *

><p>AN:

There's Chapter 4 :D

It's was a bit of a struggle to finish . 3 .

Blame procrastination, but hopefully I'll be working on Chapter 5 soon.

Next time, England and Canada!

R&R?

peu de changements – few changes

Maintenant Alfred, levez-vous ou je vous punirai – Alfred now, get up or I will punish you.

S'il vous plait Alfred, grand frère – Please Alfred, big brother

petit frère, il voulait devenir un avec vous, vous utilisez, puis vous partez.. – Little brother, he wanted to become one with you, use you, and then you.

Je ne veux pas te blesser- I do not mean to hurt you.


	6. As Time Goes By

Chapter 5 – As time goes by

There was no time taken for the changes to take place. A mini war was drawn against the French and British as the colonists were overthrown by French soldiers. A mini war turned into a bloody battle field. Much blood was shed on Alfred's soil and he felt every life lost on his land. He shuddered, sick in bed as he rolled around in it. He'd returned to his home land, though it wasn't much of a welcome party. Shackles and locks adorned his ankles and wrists as he was pushed onto his own land. Hidden away was he as he watched Francis bid no mercy at his will.

France didn't spare a second look of pity as he ordered the men to burn down the men in the Capital, just not the capital itself. Pain withered the teen's body, the screaming and shouts never dying those few days that turned to weeks to months and years. England was shocked by what was happening, but did not hear or see the return of the representation of America itself. With deemed determination, he fought against the troops, trying best as he could to kill as many as possible and save the land for his baby brother.

All was for nothing.

It was November 16, 1772. Word had gotten out of the New World: Britain surrendered and withdrew his soldiers from the land in a matter of days. The colonists though didn't fear the French, more as to welcoming them was what they did.

It seemed as if everyone was almost happier, all but dear Alfred who was recovering from lost land and lives. He shivered at the thought of what would happen if everything continued as is: If France stayed forever.

* * *

><p>The steps echoed the halls, though none met his eyes. Curses were being spilled here and there as he continued on, holding in his rage till he slammed shut his office doors. The guard outside the door cringed at the noise of objects being thrown about the room.<p>

"WHO THE BLOODY FUCK DOES FRANCIS THINK HE IS, JUST TAKING AMERICA'S LAND FROM ME!" He screamed to no one in particular as he fell onto the floor, grasping at the desk for support. It hurt all over. Britain had lost so many, so many due to that French Country and he knew he wouldn't be able to do anything since he'd be recovering for a few years.

He was outraged and hurt, betrayed mostly. The same man that had raised him first taught him all he knew, first laid hands on him now was the first man to take away America from him.

Forcing himself to get up, he leaned against the desk in support, the rage building in him. Another shove of items off his desk before he finally let himself topple to the floor; yes, maybe sleep was what he needed. Yes, sleep…

In all darkness, you're blinded by the dark colors of abyssal nothing; black is all you see, all you think, all you grasp in his dwelling. Searching for something in the descent, he kept at it, searching for nothing. The light was for gone in the deception of dreams he'd given up some time ago.

One by itself had no taste, no interest, no reason; yet it caught him by the throat. Wide eyes stared into the darkness, falling deeper into hell with him. "Where am I?" The words slip past him, yet he's convinced he hadn't asked it. The cold trembles were short, casting at his pale body. A shudder ran down his spine. Had he always been this cold?

Heavy his body felt, dragging himself. He couldn't decide between the falling feelings or if he was only sluggishly moving towards whatever pulled him forward. Feeble weak movements to make it towards that illuminated difference that peaked through the darkness were the only thing that surged him forward.

That pale body that shook and stumbled felt a chill run down his spine. Eyes searched as he looked behind him to see a dark figure. A grueling one, one of black drilled eyes that dripped with only darker tears, falling towards the ground to join its shadow as it stared back at Arthur. He froze, indifferent of the familiar essence that seemed to radiate from the creature. The small body was only darker, the skin seeming to peel off slowly, dying at the tips.

He shook more with the fear that struck him, yet he couldn't rid himself of that familiar want. The want to go to him and embrace it, but he made no movement.

_Arthur._

Where- he turned towards that illuminated redemption that called to him, whisper those enchanting words to him. More, he walked towards it, not losing his track from it. Only a foot away before, he turned once more, glancing back towards that figure that had moved closer towards him than necessary. He shivered more, the feeling growing and he just turned away to meet a bright figure.

It was ghostly, lost almost, but it gave such a gentle essence. One that shielded away the other's presence entirely till Arthur almost forgot about it. Almost; it tugged at him, screaming and shouting his name. He was stuck, turning no way towards it as he just stared into those eyes, eyes that held clear response.

_Arthur._

Closer the stepped before he embraced it, held it in his arms and held it close. Then it happened. Like a glass, everything shattered around them. Pieces fell and crashed, surrounding them till he realized the screaming was originating from behind him. He spun, looking at the darkened figure that shook, shook and shouted and screamed louder. It was screaming one thing.

_Arthur._

Arthur only held tighter towards the lighter embrace, never letting go until his vision was cut to meet a wrecked room. He blinked twice before realizing he was in his own office again that was half destroyed. He pressed a palm over his eyes and let a chuckle escape. It grew, grew louder into a laugh; laughter that filled the room and bounded it before he let his head droop against his own body and smiling, green eyes that held nothing.

"Matthew."

* * *

><p>AN:

Haa yes, new chapter. Do ya'll like? It's rather… suspenseful as I tried to make it.

Guess who that black figure was and I give you a cookie? C:

Reviews are welcomed and loved.


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